DenubianMatch
by ebon-drake
Summary: Lotor encounters a date with destiny online, but not everything is what it seems. This is my first attempt at Doom!humor for a while, so bear with me. Oddly enough, this is NOT Lotor x Allura-centric. Set in the DoTU timeline with influences from both Go-Lion and DDP. Contains adult language and themes. Rated T. IN PROGRESS.


**Disclaimer: **Voltron and its characters, settings, and story line are copyrighted by World Event Productions, Ltd. and Toei Animation Company. DDP comic concepts and ideas are copyrighted by Devil's Due Publishing. Cover image is a screenshot from Cheezey's website, "Cossack the Terrible's Tour of Planet Doom". References to areas of the Denubian Galaxy (i.e. Azure Quadrant, Onyx Star System, etc.) are from the map developed by Shannon Muir and sanctioned by WEP. All other names, places, characters, and plot bunnies are my own unless otherwise noted. I am in no way affiliated with the aforementioned companies. No monetary profit is being made from this work, and no copyright infringement is intended. Please do not do not re-post or reuse this work without obtaining my written permission first. Thank you.

******Last Revision Date: **4/26/14

**Author's Note:** This story is inspired by and dedicated to LotorSincline and, in staying true to the character he RP's, the 6 Allura RP accounts he follows on Twitter. A bit of a spoiler, but although this looks like a Lotor x Allura-centric fic, it actually is not. Also, thank you very much to DrowningBlonde for her advice on this fic.

**DenubianMatch, Ch. 1**

Lotor was frustrated. Well, frustrated would be putting it mildly... unless the term could be used to adequately describe being engaged in a perpetual game of mental _Kuvak_ with a parental figure that seemed likely to live on forever, like the mythical Methuselah of Terran Christian lore, and endless nights of interrupted sleep and vague memories that seemed more dreamlike than factual, and yet could not be entirely discredited, then yes, he was most definitely frustrated.

While his father was certainly one of the sources of his frustration, the biggest by far for him was Princess Allura of Arus, a woman of breathtaking beauty, spirit, and courage who sadly proved much more elusive in reality than did in his dreams. In a twist of fate so cruel that it was almost comedic, the woman he now knew that he was madly in love with was also the one person who would not be moved by his devotion, appearance, talents, wealth, or power. She would not be courted, nor could she apparently be seduced, corrupted, bought, bribed, or otherwise compromised, a quirk which both infuriated him and made him want her all the more. He could not explain why with 100 percent certainty. There was no shortage to the number of females who dropped everything for a chance to experience the pleasure of his company. Even his harem slaves soon ceased in their complaints after he broke them in. He had never seen the daughter of Alfor before taking over the mission to reconquer Arus, but he also could not shake the feeling that he had once known her. It was a puzzle. When all of that was paired with the word "No," a word that he did not hear very often, it made for an intriguing and oddly seductive package.

Fortunately, his goddess was not as unaffected by him as she pretended to be. In the few times that he had managed to get her alone, cracks had appeared in her icy coating and revealed the nuget-y goodness of her repressed curiosity and lust underneath, allowing him to then make a bit more progress with her. Despite all of this, she steadfastly continued to deny her blatant desire for his devilish good looks and body and the metaphorical, as well as the literal, mountains that he had moved for her, and instead chose to focus on the fact that a few of her rebellious peasants had tripped and fallen messily onto his sword. It was nothing personal, he was just doing what he was supposed to be doing: securing the borders of the Empire and ensuring its longevity. As a princess, she had the upbringing and education to know that this was all just a part of the greater scheme of things, but still she persisted in her stubbornness.

As high as his opinion was of her, her priorities were in need of serious rearrangement. She was concerned for her people, even though they were only suffering the fate that they had brought onto themselves, and yet she refused the benefit, nay, the _privileg_e, of being his wife, a role which would give her the power and resources to help them, even if they didn't really deserve it, in addition to the many, many, many other perks that would be available to her. This far outweighed any number of peasants that had met their demise at the end of his weapon, accidental or otherwise. Instead, she seemed fixated on the idea that all of his efforts, all of his elaborate, and frankly genius, plans, were aimed at the goal of just fucking her a few times. It was rather insulting, the idea that he was so short-sighted or such a slave to his desires. Perhaps that had been the case at first, but no longer. Even if that was still all that he wanted from her, he did not exactly have a shortage of that back home, and he wouldn't have wasted his time and efforts in trying to prove his sincerity to her. This did little to enhance his reputation for decisive ruthlessness and brutality since it meant handling Voltron with kid gloves to save Blue Lion from any undue damage. It was a little embarrassing, but it was worth it to him if it meant that she made the correct decision for herself of her own accord. If this wasn't a clear demonstration of love, then what was? She was taking much longer than he would have liked to make the decision, however, and this confused him somewhat since there was no other decision that she could logically make. Yes, his methods of persuasion had all the subtlety and finesse of carving a cooked bird with a bastard sword, but it was obvious to him how deep his affections for her ran. Why wasn't it the same for her? The answer was that she did know and was tempted, but allowed nonsense like Purity, Truth, and Justice to sidetrack her. It was quite tragic, and while he was willing to forgive many things, this he could not, which was why he strove so hard to correct her in the most gentle way that he could. It was not his fault that robeasts could not tiptoe.

Lotor considered himself a patient man and was cognizant of the extremely slow, albeit still measurable, progress that he was making with his future empress, but it was still very easy to succumb to period bouts of disheartenment, some of them stronger than others. Although the princess was in denial like no one else he had ever seen, her obstinacy seemed to come from an infinite wellspring, and the day when she would finally leap willingly into his arms seemed depressingly far into the future, sort of like when his father would finally do him the favor of falling down the stairs leading up to the throne and breaking his neck, thus saving him the effort of having to go through the tedium of arranging his death himself. He just couldn't catch a break.

It was times like these when he said "Fuck it" and momentarily drowned his sorrows in a good vintage as he went online and gazed wonderingly at images of other women. None of them compared to Allura, no one could, but it was easy to fantasize that maybe one of them would be able to know a good thing when she saw it and _not_ make things more difficult than they needed to be. If he did not know any better, he would be prepared to swear that the Princess of Arus delighted in the unnecessary trouble that she caused him. If it wasn't for the fact that their fates were so closely linked that it was only inevitable that they would one day come together completely and become one, he would be almost halfway tempted to seek a less intractable bride. Almost.

Still, swiping through pictures of what equated to eye candy for him on the DenubianMatch app that he had installed on his datapad for shits and giggles mollified his frustration somewhat. It was late into the night and he was lounging on a couch in the smaller, more intimate receiving area of his personal quarters, a glass of wine in hand. He scanned through females of all species, races, and body types, and if he came across one that piqued his interest somewhat, then he tapped on her image in order to bring up a three dimensional representation of her. This continued off and on for some time until something finally caught his attention, a notice that someone had sent him a message and it was currently awaiting perusal in his inbox. Frowning slightly, the prince imperial closed out of the current image that he had open and brought up his inbox, and what he saw nearly made him spit out his beverage and perform a double take, for right there before him was a message from a user with the name P_Allura and a profile picture featuring the exquisite face of his beloved.


End file.
